Now's Your Chance!!! Spamton x Reader

Urban Soirée

You're being escorted to the party. A Swatchling walks on either side of you, leading you gently, if stoically. 

You look to either side, feeling a brief flash of panic, but you see that Spamton is at your side as well. His nutcracker-esque mouth is locked in a frown, and his glasses are filled with static, but he seems more empty than upset. 

You feel as though you've missed something. The last thing you knew was Spamton's screaming, but you're not even in your room anymore. How did you get here?

You nudge Spamton with your foot.

He barely responds, but you see a slight shift in posture as he looks at you instead of at his feet.

What happened? 

You mouth the words at him.

His frown deepens. He trembles softly, and in his glasses, you come to understand why.

You catch flashes of green- not like Queen's acid. No, it's the shade of those horrible strings that hold you both captive.

Mike has more control than you originally thought, apparently. 

The thought sends shivers down your spine. Can he really control you like that? If he chose to, how much time would you lose to his control? Are you a vessel for him? 

No, that's not quite right.

You're a puppet.

Questions spiral in your mind, but it all has to be put on hold as you find yourself in front of a now-familiar entrance.

The Swatchling escorts usher you both inside.

You're surrounded by your own work. The decorations, now properly lit, paint the room in luxurious reds and golds. Queen-shaped vases fill any space that isn't already sparkling with banners or drapery. It's all accented by soft electronic music, which emanates from the corner of the room. On looking, you see a small stage, on which three quirky robots perform.

The ambience is excellent. It really is. 

The only problem is the guests.

There are various Darkners present, and most of them are polite, but four stand out from the rest. Each one is distinct, but they all have similar traits: long noses, puppet jaws, a black suit and neon green slacks, and a charming smile. They're obviously the stars of the show, considering how each one has a pair of Swatchlings at their beck and call.

That's what makes it so alarming when you realize who they remind you of.

Just as you see the similarity, you hear Spamton let out a pitiful whimper. That same noise unfortunately draws the attention of four sets of eyes.

"Oh! Is that who I think it is?" The orange one's smile broadens.

"It can't be. No clicks, no home, and definitely no invitation," the yellow one snickers.

"Mm, certainly looks like he's garnered some interest.~" The pink one's eyes slide over to you briefly, unnervingly.

"Hey, be nice. He may not be a customer, but the Lightner definitely is." The blue one's voice is soothing, but the analytical look in his eyes makes him just as upsetting as the others.

All four of them stalk closer. It's as though the room is holding its breath as they draw near.

After a beat of challenging silence, the orange Darkner looks at you and finally breaks.

"Well, this is no fun at all. How about some introductions instead, eh?" He reaches out a hand. "I'm Payton."

You hesitantly take his hand. "I'm Y/N."